


routine

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Gender Non-Conforming Character, Halloween, M/M, Shaving, Trans Male Character, Trans Newton Geiszler, gnc hermann gottlieb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 04:22:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: “Oh shut up, Newton.” Hermann rolls his eyes and grimaces when he nicks the delicate skin around his ankle. He knows he’s better at this than he once was, a teenager experimenting under his sister’s watchful eyes. Even at this age, he’s still prone to small nicks along his face or legs, his hands never as steady as he wants them to be. Newt, though, has nearly infallibly steady hands. Hermann watched him, just five minutes prior, shave away the sleepy scruff on his cheeks.





	routine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SFW Newmann Fest for the prompts "shaving/bathing/taking care of hygiene in a shared space" and "debating over costumes"
> 
> Check out the other works in the collection or the fest in general here: https://sfwnewmannfest.tumblr.com

Hermann’s good leg is propped up on the side of the tub as he shaves it carefully. The chair that usually sits in the shower has been pulled over for this purpose, and he’s perched carefully there, listening to Newt humming by the sink around his toothbrush.

“Darling, you’re supposed to brush your teeth, not dance around the bathroom with a toothbrush in your mouth,” Hermann comments, still focused carefully on the hair around his ankles. He does this when the mood strikes, and this is the first the mood has struck him in several weeks, so it’s taking longer than usual.

Instead of replying with articulate words, Newt gives a garbled answer also around his toothbrush. Naturally, he spits out his toothpaste immediately after.

“I’ve been thinking about Halloween,” Newt says, turning around to look at him for a moment before he rinses his toothbrush. “Do you have any costume ideas?”

“Nothing too complicated. Or expensive.”

“Thanks, always a creative thinker, hmm?”

“Oh shut up, Newton.” Hermann rolls his eyes and grimaces when he nicks the delicate skin around his ankle. He knows he’s better at this than he once was, a teenager experimenting under his sister’s watchful eyes. Even at this age, he’s still prone to small nicks along his face or legs, his hands never as steady as he wants them to be. Newt, though, has nearly infallibly steady hands. Hermann watched him, just five minutes prior, shave away the sleepy scruff on his cheeks.

When he asked Newt about it, he’d laughed and said something about needing good hands to work with samples. Then he shared stories of his disastrous experiences shaving his own legs as an awkward young teenager, and insisted that Hermann touched his legs and the impressive growth of hair on them. Hermann never minds Newt’s hair, even on the mornings when his own seems to convey something he’s not sure he likes about himself. (It’s all societal conditioning, Newt had explained, but if he wants to shave the hair on his legs, it’s not hurting him to do it. Newt’s worked out so much of these complicated gender feelings already.)

“I just don’t think we need to be Kirk and Spock again, you know?” Newt continues, running his hands over his face in the mirror, belatedly checking that he’s gotten a clean shave. He’s just in his pajama bottoms and a very worn out t-shirt with holes along the neckline. Hermann’s tried to convince him to get rid of the shirt several times, but he does absolutely refuse to do so.

“We don’t have to do a couples’ costume at all if you don’t want one.”

The look Newt gives him is one of disbelief, like the idea of them choosing their own costumes for Halloween is absurd.

“Babe, we’re gonna do a couple’s costume, even if we’re both cute kitties,” Newt argues. “Which I don’t want to be a cute cat, by the way.”

“Alright. So what do you have in mind?”

Newt watches him for a moment, distracted by the glide of the razor on his pale calf. Hermann uses the same razors for his legs that he does for his face, always with a fresh blade.

“I don’t have any ideas, that’s sort of the problem.”

Hermann turns a smile to him. “There’s nothing wrong with being Kirk and Spock for the fifth year in a row.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Five years? We’re hosting the party, we have to have the best costumes.”

“I don’t think that’s the rule.” Hermann runs his hand over his calf, checking for stray hairs before he lifts his leg off of the tub to rest on the floor. He wiggles his toes, admiring the red nail polish that Newt had lovingly applied in a fit of affectionate boredom the night prior.

This is another thing Newt is good at, but this isn’t something he learned as an awkward preteen. For as long as Hermann’s known Newt, he’s often had dark nail polish on his fingers. Apparently it’s a “punk rock” thing.

Hermann smooths out the hem of his long night shirt. “Can you help me with the other leg, Newton?” He knows he’s blushing and he’s not sure why. Newt almost always helps with this part.

“Sure thing, honey.” Newt drops to his knees beside Hermann, turning on the tub faucet to rinse off the razor. For good measure, he wets a wash rug, rubbing it over Hermann’s leg gently, which is a gentle and sweet touch. It has been more than a few minutes since Hermann finished his shower, after all, and his legs are not as wet as they really should be. “You could be Jeff Goldblum, in Jurassic Park, and I could be a dinosaur.”

“Oh no, if I’m looking attractive for you, I expect the same from you.”

He smiles nonetheless when Newt starts to rub shaving cream on his leg. The first stroke of the razor is tentative, probably too delicate, but Newt becomes more confident in his actions. It’s not the smoothest process, because every few strokes Newt has to turn on the faucet to rinse off the razor, but he insists he won’t leave it on due to the fact that it wastes water.

“We could go as each other,” Newt suggest, his tongue darting out of his mouth as he concentrates on shaving around Hermann’s knee.

“Are you willing to subject yourself to that level of mockery?”

“It would be hilarious. You know our friends would find it hilarious. And it would give you an excuse to steal my clothes, which I know is one of your biggest hobbies.”

“Your clothes are more comfortable.”

Newt’s hair is still uncombed and looking wild in a way it often does in the morning. Hermann knows he’ll have to remind him to comb it or else it’ll be at the mercy of the world for the day. There’s something charming about it, though, the way it makes Hermann immediately think of lazy mornings sleeping in, sharing the morning paper at breakfast, letting his tea go cold.

“You know that you’re the one who chooses your clothes, right?” Newt teases, very carefully lifting Hermann’s leg with one hand so he can shave along his ankle with the other. In any capacity, Hermann feels safe in Newt’s hands.

“I am fully aware.” 

“So let’s do it. I’ll be you and you’ll be me and everyone will laugh and it won’t cost us any money, which meets your requirements.”

When Newt finishes, he wets the washrag again, wiping down Hermann’s legs. Hermann passes him over the tube of lotion he’s laid out on the side of the tub and Newt drops a generous dollop in his hands before rubbing that along the soft and smooth skin of Hermann’s thighs.

“Always feels so nice after you shave,” Newt remarks and he presses a kiss to Hermann’s knee. He takes a few moments to admire his handiwork before he grips onto the side of the tub and stands carefully. 

“You’ve got to comb your hair,” Hermann comments, running his own hands along his calves. The feeling of freshly shaved legs is always a bit odd, but very pleasant to him, and he’s glad Newt likes it as well. Newt doesn’t have to like it, he’s reminded himself, because the things he does to and for his body are for him alone, and he suspects Newt would like most anything he chooses to do or not to do anyway. 

“You don’t like it like this?” Newt teases, ruffling Hermann’s still wet hair. When he grimaces, Newt laughs and helps to smooth it down, finishing the motion off with a kiss.

“I do, but not for a work look.”

Newt huffs dramatically but reaches for his comb, working on combing down flyaways and get his hair into something resembling order. Hermann stands slowly, stepping towards where Newt now stands by the sink, and he wraps his arms around his waist, knowing full well this prevents him from combing his hair.

“Babe, we’ve gotta get going soon.”

“I need very important advice, though,” Hermann says, placing a kiss to the side of Newt’s neck.

“The gray tweed skirt,” Newt answers, not missing a beat. “It goes best with that weird sweater vest you’ve had sitting out for today.”

“Mm, thank you.” He kisses his cheek before he pulls away, leaving Newt to finish getting ready for the morning. Their day seems to be starting just right.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ pendragoff and twitter @ newtguzzler!


End file.
